They Can Never Know
by Zenna95
Summary: The Elric brothers are closer than anyone can imagine- even themselves. It's only hopeless dreaming... or so they think. Elricest, yaoi, T for language, implications, etc., NO LEMON.
1. Unreachable

**A/Ns: Well. My first attempt at both yaoi and Elricest. I'll warn everyone now, this is currently anywhere from 2-4 (depending on where I break off chapters, that's still under debate)chapters, but has no preplanned plotline. It goes where it wants to, with no thought involved. Subconcious to hands to keyboard to FFN. Actually, I missed a step- it has to get through the wonderful Iarrod, who has agreed to beta-read this story for me. Thank you, Iarrod~! ^^**

**Disclaimer: I. Own. NOTHING. Not even the computer I'm typing this on. (It's my sister's, in case anyone was wondering...you weren't? Oh...)**

* * *

These thoughts were wrong, he knew that, but Al couldn't keep that face from appearing in his fantasies. That stunted body, weighed down by two heavy automail limbs. The well-toned, muscled figure he had seen shirtless so many times during their sparring matches, and pantsless during automail reattachments, that he couldn't help but wonder what the rest of him looked like. The parts of him that no little brother should think about in that way. The way that Alphonse couldn't seem to stop dreaming about.

The books all said it was normal for children to want to... explore their bodies, to put it gently, but they said absolutely nothing about sibling relationships. Ever. The first thing that came to mind was the word 'inbreeding', which really didn't apply to the situation. The second was the word 'illegal'.

But dear God, Ed... he was just... perfect. In every way, shape and form, he was everything anyone could ask for. Sure, he was a bit short-tempered sometimes, but that fact just made the blond even more enticing.

Fuck. The heat pooling in his groin should not be there, it was wrong in every sense of the word, wrong, wrong, wrong! The brunette teen curled in on himself, doubled over in an effort to... to... he didn't know, really. The fetal position was one that humans instinctively went to when feeling threatened by something, and these thoughts were threatening enough to induce that instinct, he realized. Hell, they threatened his relationship with his brother already. It wouldn't be long before Al could no longer restrain his urges. This was as far from instinctive as he could get, the logical part of his mind told him. Homosexuality was counterproductive and did nothing to further the species. Therefore it was entirely his own fault that he had fallen hard for his older brother. Alphonse curled in tighter on himself, ignoring the tense pain in his back as he stretched the muscles to their breaking point.

He wished he could go back in time, to when he had first gotten his body back. To when he could explain away these feelings as simply craving human touch, craving the feeling of skin on skin, of being an adolescent male inexperienced with controlling his thoughts and urges. To when his brother would hold him close, hands running along his back, comforting him even though there was nothing wrong. It was impossible, he knew, but the human mind was a hopeful thing.

The almost tentative knock on his door snapped the younger Elric out of his thoughts. He closed his grey-green eyes, trying to gain control of his voice before answering.

"Yes, brother?" 'Oh dear God, please tell me that did not_ just come out all high and ragged like I thought it did... please, please, please, don't let him find out...' _He could hear the slight scrape as Ed's automail shifted backwards, dragging on the floor a bit more than a normal limb would.

"Never mind... I'll tell ya later." Receding footsteps in the direction of the kitchen signaled the elder's leaving. A derisive chuckle escaped Al's throat. How well this situation mirrored life. Ed just always too far away. Always unreachable on his pedestal of perfection.

* * *

Ed cursed as he leaned against the counter, fists clenched, nails digging into his flesh palm in some pretense of pain. He hardly noticed the stinging, or the fact that he'd broken skin.  
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_." With each expletive loosed, his fists grew tighter, knuckles whitening beneath the skin, automail protesting creakily at the unusual amount of pressure. This was wrong, so very wrong. He shouldn't think of Al like that, shouldn't use him like that, even in his own mind, and definitely shouldn't even think of telling his little brother that he had the hots for him. The blond ignored the raging erection he could feel straining against his tight leather pants, trying and failing to think of anything but his perfect, angelic younger brother. For the love of... anything, God, the Gate, he didn't know, but this was wrong. Unbidden, his 17-year-old, hormone-crazed mind threw an image at him, taunting him with the fantasies of his dreams, now supplemented with the breathy, high-pitched voice that had emanated from the younger teen's room. A totally bare Alphonse, prone beneath him, face flushed, breath ragged, calling his name in that tone, the one that drove Ed crazy with lust. The blond bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. No, no, _no_! He would _not_ think about his little brother that way! Damn it, Al was too innocent, too _perfect_ for him to soil like that! Hell, the boy would run screaming if Ed so much as hinted that he wanted to fuck him!  
That was it.  
He just wanted to fuck.  
A sigh of relief escaped the Elric's mouth. This problem he could deal with much more easily than his earlier, imagined predicament. He hadn't fucked anyone but himself(well, more accurately, his own hand) for so long that his body was taking it out on his little brother, who just happened to be the first person he came in contact with. It would do the same if he saw Hawkeye, Winry, hell, probably even _Mustang_.  
Okay, maybe Mustang was a bit of a stretch, but still! All he needed to do was head down to the Red Light District and let loose. That's what the place was there for, after all. He nodded slowly to himself, deciding this course of action was the most logical and easiest to carry out.

* * *

Only after he heard the front door open and close did Alphonse let himself relax. With his brother out of the house, he might be able to collect his thoughts, keep them under tighter rei- his mind, seemingly responding to his desire to not think about such things, produced a tantalizing image: one of the blond who so occupied his thoughts, eyes half-lidded and smoky with desire, arched over him dominantly, bodies closer than they'd ever been before. The brunette shook his head sharply. 'No, no, _no_! He is my _older brother_, not my _boyfriend_, and that's absolutely _impossible_!' Sometimes he could swear he heard the symbolic angel and devil of his conscience arguing.  
'Doesn't mean the two need to be separate.'  
'Don't think about that! It's not right!'  
'You're already a sinner, what's one more strike against you?'  
'There's almost no chance that he feels the same way!'  
'The chance is still there.'  
'It's unlikely enough that you're romantically attracted to your brother, unlikelier still that he would be attracted to you!'  
'He's just as messed up as you are; you know that.'  
'Doesn't mean his mind's as screwed up as yours!' Al shook his head, trying to ignore the voices, and decided a drink might do him some good. Seeing as his brother wasn't in the house anyways, there was no chance of him having to explain his odd tone earlier.  
'Yeah, just thinking about how I shouldn't be in love with you. Nothing major.' He snorted, shaking his head as he walked into the kitchen. Hopeless. He was completely hopeless. A note stuck on the fridge with one of the plain, silver-backed magnets caught his attention.  
_ Needed someone to do, went to RLD. See ya tomorrow morning. Ed._ Just before his brother's scrawled signature, something had been completely blacked out with the pen, something obviously not meant to be read, or probably written at all.  
'See? Red Light. If he liked you, he would've come to you. End of story.' The 'demon' persona grumbled but remained otherwise silent. At the same time joyful and depressed, due to this clean-cut new logic, Al shook his head and got himself a glass of water.


	2. Untouchable

Apparently 'tomorrow morning' actually meant '10 o'clock tonight', for that was the time a grumbling Edward stalked into the house, slamming the door behind him. The ranting and raving Elric could be heard throughout the small apartment, and probably a few of the neighboring ones as well. The younger brother simply sighed, shoulders drooping. Back to hiding from his older brother, hoping that somehow he could seem the same as he used to be and not alienate the one he cared most for, _and_ hide the fact that beneath his calm, cheerful facade his body urged to pin the shorter teen to the wall and-

Al cut the line of thought short before it ran away and became a full-blown fantasy. The thought that he was able to think about his brother in such a way, that he would willingly think about that sort of thing, had the teen nearly in tears. He curled in on himself, fighting back the instinct to cry and burying his face in his knees. The couch's tendency to be soft and comforting wasn't particularly helping at this point in time; he would've much preferred the cold stone of the walls and floor, but no way was he going to move with his brother in the room. Unfortunately, he had momentarily forgotten said brother's almost paranoid way of worrying whenever Al showed the slightest signs of being upset. Being in the fetal position definitely counted as being upset, and stopped the short teen's raving instantaneously.

"Al? You okay?" The concerned touch on his shoulder was more than the already hysterical boy could take.

"No, I'm _not_ fucking okay! It's just _wrong,_ that- No, I promised I wouldn't say anything about that. Ever." Ed prodded carefully. He was still worried, but now he had to be careful not to send the younger teen into a flying rage.

"Wouldn't say anything about..." The blond let the sentence hang, sitting gingerly next to his little brother. Al looked up, bronze eyes flashing angrily, and the odd fact occurred to Ed that if there was a God, this is what he would look like when angered. Furious, fierce, and full of fire... and absolutely glorious in his rage.

"The fact that I fucking love you, as more than a brother, more than family, and it's _not fucking right_ but I can't keep my mind from going that way and I don't know what to do, and, and..." Bony fists clung to Ed's pale shirt as Al lost his ability to speak. The god-like eyes disappeared as the brunette buried his face in his older brother's chest, and the slowly spreading wetness told the blond that his little brother was crying.

Edward, to say the least, was completely and utterly flabbergasted. Al was in love with him? That... oy. Completely at a loss for what to do, the alchemist rested his head on top of the younger teen's, flesh hand rubbing circles in his back, automail arm looped around his little brother as best as he could manage. He let his little brother cry on his own; there wasn't much he could think to say, anyways. Maybe if his brain would start _functioning_ again, rather than sitting and doing nothing more than being the useless lump of carbon, nitrogen and other elements it was, he would be able to comfort the crying brunette. As it was, he could do nothing but let the younger boy cry himself out. When the shaking of Al's shoulders had died down to small twitches, Ed sighed.

"Al..." The younger Elric shrunk away, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry, brother..." Eyes Ed knew would be dark and cloudy in confusion and hopelessness were closed and turned towards the couch. Ed's brain decided to switch on, and he thanked it mentally. Not particularly thinking about what he was doing- he got the feeling he would ruin everything if he over-analyzed it-, the blond reached out a hand and tilted his little brother's head upwards. Swallowing the lump in his throat- _he just spilled to you, you do the same, idiot!-_ Ed started to talk.

"Al... there's... damn, I'd say there's nothing to apologize for, but we're both sinners anyway. What will one more strike do to our record?" He shifted closer to the younger teen, resting his forehead on that of his little brother, and hoped to _whatever_ ruled and directed life that he wouldn't screw things up with this.

"If we're going down, we're going down together." His arms looped around Al's slender frame, feeling the alternating tensing and relaxation as the brunette tried to at the same time relax and keep himself rational. Not thinking- thinking would ruin it-, Ed leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his younger brother's lips.

There were no fireworks, no angels singing in the background, no flames rising out of the ground to engulf them and label them as eternal sinners. All that was needed- all that happened- was Al's quiet response, melting against his brother, pressing himself upwards into the slight pressure, arms twining around Ed's neck. They stayed like that for a moment, but were forced to break apart due to a need for air. Somehow or other, Ed had managed to wriggle onto his little brother's lap during the exchange, and it didn't take a psychic to tell what was on either boy's mind. Especially in Edward's case, as his previously-cursed leather pants let his younger brother know just how turned on he could get in the space of thirty seconds. It wasn't an entirely one-sided exchange, for the younger teen's hard-on was most definitely pressed into the back of his older brother's thigh. The two simply panted for the next few seconds, enjoying the feel of the heated breath on their faces, but it wasn't long before Ed's hands started roaming up and down his little brother's torso, impatient as ever. The elder Elric might not be one for words, but when he decided he wanted you to know something, he made sure he got his point across. Each feather-light brush of a hand made Al's breath hitch; since when was his brother such a goddamn _tease? _Pleased at getting such a reaction from the younger teen, said older brother rose slightly so he could look at his brother without giving himself a crick in his neck. Why did Al have to be so damn tall? The boys' lips met again, Ed arched over his younger brother, content in his dominant position. Alphonse seemed just as content to become submissive, responding so sensitively that it was impossible to forget just how inexperienced the teen was. Slowly, oh so slowly, they eased downwards until Al was flat on his back, his blond relative's golden eyes staring into his own as his stocky, lithe body somehow lengthened itself so as to be able to both look his brother in the face and keep that lovely contact of thigh-to-groin that was driving Al mad. Lust had darkened the younger, less controlled teen's eyes, but something snapped in the older brother's mind, and Ed backed away, forcing himself to leave the innocent, untouchable Alphonse pure.

"Al, look... yeah, I like you, like _that_, but slow down here." Golden eyes closed as Ed forced himself to calm down. The brunette sat up as well, pulling his knees up to his chin, and nodded, face falling slightly.

"You're right... sorry, brother." A grin slid over the older alchemist's face.

"Already told you. Nothing to apologize for."

* * *

A/Ns:

Yeeeaaah..... Here we are, the beginning of the true Elricest. These two just won't leave me alone! Honestly, they're getting me weird looks when I try to illustrate this story. Dang you, hot incesty Elrics!

Again, beta-read by the wonderful Iarrod!

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING. The twisted mind that wrote this story owns _me_. Arakawa-sensei owns FMA and all affiliated characters, contrary to said characters' opinions.

Next up- what'll happen when the boys have to go to Risembool and face their perceptive Rockbell friends? Will they be able to keep their new relationship a secret, or will the ever-omniscient female mechanics see through the Elrics' facade? Find out next time!


	3. Dance

"That's... loud." For once, the obvious statement came from the younger Elric. Even though they stood yards away from the building, Al could feel the heavy bass thumping and thrumming through his bones. A small smile quirked at his lips as he watched his older brother, who was already swaying slightly to the music; he couldn't truthfully say, though, that he didn't feel the urge to do the same.  
"Yup. Means we don't have to hear everyone else. Great for covering our conversation, too. And the crowds... they're easy to disappear in." The blond nodded in the direction of the large group that had just entered the... establishment, if it could be called such a reputable-sounding word.  
The Iron Mask, as it was dubbed by the bold, imposing letters over the entrance, was one of the most popular clubs within Central. How, exactly, he had been roped into coming to this place he would normally avoid, Alphonse wasn't quite sure. All he knew was that this throbbing, pulsing music was taking over him, making him want to just stay in one place and _move_.  
Bass thumping through his bones, Ed pulled his little brother into the dark, flashing, horrendously loud throng that was the clientele of the Mask. You got different people here every time, but the same groups always showed up: goths, posers, people who just wanted a good grind, and, of course, people like him who came here for the anonymity. Within the Iron Mask, no one knew (or cared) who you were. Everyone was just another face in the crowd... except, of course, your dance partner or partners. The blond kept Al close to him; he didn't want anyone else making a move on the inexperienced boy who just happened to be _taken._ Once a suitable distance from the door (it wouldn't do to be seen by someone they knew passing by in the outside world), he turned to face the young man so overwhelmed by the experience.  
The effect of the music was almost magical; already, Alphonse moved, almost _flowed,_ to the beat. The crush of people forced the two into close proximity, until Ed was practically on top of the younger teen. The blond closed his eyes, let the music run into, around, and through him... and _danced.  
_ There was no point in trying to talk; there was nothing to say, and, besides, even if he had wanted to say something, either boy would have to scream his throat raw to be heard over the blaring music. There was no pretense of wanting to stay apart; here, they were just another pair of dancers, who both happened to be male. It wasn't uncommon to find pairs (or trios) of the same gender here, anyway. Everyone cut loose; everyone thought of themselves and no one else. Still the pair of Elrics danced, so well matched and entangled they could almost be mistaken for one person. Flexing, dipping, muscles moving and contracting _perfectly_, as if dancing to this throbbing, pulsing beat was something programmed into the genes of every human being.  
The salty smell of sweat was everywhere.  
As were the swerving, multicolored lights.  
And the never-ending beat.  
Nothing else mattered.  
And oh, _fuck_, wasn't this just the best sensation ever bred into the genetic code? Blood thrumming from the pulse of the beat, already achingly hard from being this close to his lover, this night was setting Ed to the torch- and every movement was just fuel on flames.  
God... so _this_ was why Ed was always so eager to get into a club. The pulsing beat, coupled with the swaying, beautiful, and, damn them both, _drop-dead sexy_ form of the blond, was enough to have Al back here every night, all night, just to watch... and experience these glorious moments all over again. Half-lidded, eyes that would have been described as 'smoky' by an outside observer (had anyone cared to observe) focused on his partner, watching each dip, sway, and roll, every minute movement, of his lithe body. Sparks, looping through his stomach, became flames as they swooped downwards. The flesh hand curled around Al's neck, pulling him in until they were breathing each other's exhalations; every so often, the sway of the music would bring their bodies closer than ever, until one or the other (usually, Alphonse had to admit, himself) was gasping for breath and mastery of his body. By now, he was clinging to Ed, though still lost in the sheer ecstasy of the dance, if such a mundane word applied to the situation. Somehow, it just seemed _right_ when lips clamped down on his neck, worming their way past the collar of the dress shirt Ed had earlier dubbed so very inappropriate. At this moment, Al was inclined to agree; the starched fabric didn't bend nearly as quickly as his neck when he threw his head back instinctively at the touch on his jugular.  
For a few seconds he panicked; what would happen if someone saw them? What if somehow, someone _knew_? But his brother's words from earlier, _'Don't worry. No one cares about anyone outside of their partner and themselves there,' _returned to his mind, and the brown-haired teen lost himself in the moment.  
Oh, to hell with it. If they kept this up, they would be heading for the damn bathroom. He was close enough already; it wouldn't take long. Al felt the same, surely enough. Having opened his own eyes, Ed had long ago noticed the smoky lust in those orbs of bronze fire. It would only be a matter of time before one of them snapped. The only questions were when, and who would lose patience first. Flames licked through his veins, though the blond was unsure if it was the music, this... entanglement, since _dancing_ didn't quite cover it anymore, or just the proximity to Al that made him so impatient.  
For once, it was the brunette who lost his temper first; he abruptly stepped away, practically panting as he asked that all-important question: "Where the hell is the bathroom?"  


* * *

Like many reasonable things about that night, exactly when and how they had left the Mask escaped Al. However, Ed, not usually so scatterbrained except about dates and deadlines, also admitted to not remembering much. It was all a hazy blur, covered in the warm afterglow that both had come to associate with mind-blowing events that could never, ever be told to anyone else.  
Not that either Elric was inclined to share, of course.


	4. To Risembool

"Fuck." Edward stared at his twisted, melted, completely unrepairable automail in denial. That phosphorus compound didn't really explode, did it? Of course it didn't, it couldn't have. That would mean that his automail really was destroyed, and they really did have to go see Winry, who was quite possibly the most perceptive female the world had ever known, especially when it came to the Elric brothers. The blond wilted, looking beyond the scrap metal that used to be his right arm at the absolute destruction of the alchemy lab around him. Said phosphorus-methane explosion had blasted a hole in the table, completely destroyed most of the equipment (hopefully not beyond repair, though a few of the more delicate instruments appeared unsalvageable), and erased a whole week's worth of work. This was in addition to the damages done to Edward himself, who was quite singed, and, as previously noted, missing an arm. A worried brunette poked his head in, opening the door with a foot and groaning as he saw the mess his older brother had gotten into.

"Bro-ther~! You let it get out, didn't you?" The blond looked away sheepishly, noting the small _clunk_ as his sibling set the box of supplies down.

"You _know_ that both phosphorus and methane are combustible and highly volatile, especially when in contact with oxygen! Why weren't you being more careful?" Despite his angry tones, Al was gentle as he examined his older brother for serious injury.

Said older brother was highly reluctant to admit that he was daydreaming about the teen who stood not five inches away, currently probing the shoulder port with fingers used to such ministrations.

"Well, at least you're not hurt... much. We're gonna need to go to Risembool." Ed wilted; not only would he get the beating of his life, but he had no excuse now to ask for a rush job, meaning he and Al would have to hide their... situation from their childhood friend for a week or more, _and_ he would have to abandon this project for however long it took to get a new arm. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

* * *

The train ride had been uneventful; hiding their relationship in public had become second nature, although neither of them thought they were fooling Mustang. Ed chose to ignore this fact; Al just preferred not to think of it, for fear of what trouble his brother might get into if they were found out. Hopefully, Winry and Pinako would be just as blinded as the rest of the world. The key word of that thought was _hopefully, _of course. The arched eyebrow on Winry's frowning face showed she knew more than they wanted her to.

Or she was just trying to think of what new way Ed could possibly have found to destroy her 'precious baby,' as the automail was often referred to.

Whichever.

* * *

A bleeding, sulking Elric sat on the couch, letting Al bandage the lump on his forehead from the beating administered earlier.

"Really, Winry, I'm already injured! Did you have to hit me?" The blonde young woman nodded, chin high and stubborn before her posture softened.

"Al, lemme see him. I promise, I won't hurt the idiot any more." Winry sat beside her charge, prodding gently at the port that attached the automail to his body. The brunette glanced into his brother's eyes one last time, before smiling a bit, and leaving.

Mere moments passed between Al leaving and a loud _thud_ coming from the next room over. Ed bolted after his little brother, hardly noticing the sting as one of the wires in his arm was wrenched awry.

The brown-haired teen was sprawled on the floor, grey-green eyes glassy, mouth parted slightly in a belatedly surprised expression. Fearful seconds (though they seemed hours to the worried Edward) passed before either conscious teen noted the slight rise and fall of the youngest's chest. A relieved sigh passed from the blond's lips as he kneeled next to Al, finding a steady, if somewhat weak, pulse in the teen's wrist. He draped an arm over his shoulders, hauling his lover to his feet, and tried to ignore the waves of guilt and 'what if's rolling through his gut.

"Let's get him to a room, hm? Or the couch." Winry blinked, mind snapping out of shock, before affirming Ed's idea and trotting off to find a blanket for her unconscious friend.

* * *

Al came to several hours later, and his first impression was _yellow_. Then colors resolved into definite shapes and recognizable features, and the brunette realized he was staring into his brother's face... which was about two inches away. The younger Elric blinked a few times, reacquainting his eyes to the lovely concept of vision, and sat up. Alphonse realized that someone had moved him to the couch in the living room, and that someone was probably Ed, who was still nearby. Swallowing something that was tasted vaguely like bile, the brown-haired teen cast through his remaining memories. Leaving Ed to get his automail fixed, planning what to make for dinner, blacking out, the Gate, that blond kid in there- wait, the Gate? Al held a quivering hand up in front of his face, shuddering as he remembered the last time he had seen that... place, perhaps, was the right word.

"This shouldn't happen anymore." His voice was quiet, almost fearful, confusing the elder boy.

"What shouldn't... oh." Quiet understanding suffused Ed's tone, and the blond leaned against the couch, resting his forehead against his brother's arm. The spells were back, those times when Al would momentarily lose consciousness... when his soul would be temporarily rejected from his body. Small shudders, suppressed feelings that the brunette couldn't identify, ran up Ed's small frame and transferred onto Al's.

"This shouldn't... I'm sorry, Al... I'm sorry, damn it. Thought I got it right, could've sworn there was nothing I missed... fuck, I should've-" The blond cut off as Al rested his forehead on Ed's.

"Brother... it's not your fault. Neither of us could have guessed. I thought I was fine; so did everyone else. I'd rather be stuck like this than have you... do _that_ again." He referred to the events under Central reluctantly, though Al knew it was one of the few sure ways to get through to the alchemist once he started rambling. Ed's golden eyes closed as a shuddering sigh made its way out.

"Whatever you say, Al. Whatever you say."

* * *

**A/Ns:**

**Yeah, I TOTALLY own FMA. Really. *laugh* If I was Hiromu Arakawa, would I be writing fanfiction? No. I'd be writing the new chapter. You think a manga-ka has enough time to write fanfic, anyway?**

**Sorry for the dramatic moment near the end... Al just kinda flopped on me and said 'DO THIS!' You all know I never deny my characters (except when they're being extraordinarily stupid), and thus he's losing his soul again. **

**Chapter 4 is already written and will be up as soon as I feel like it. Not nearly as long a wait as this one.**

**Reviews are appreciated; flames will be used to keep Mustang at bay.**


	5. Caught

**A/Ns:**

**Again, I own nothing but the plot.**

**Sorry, guys, this one's a bit shorter than the others. It's also probably the closest thing we're gonna get to NC-17 material. As usual, T for language. T+ in general. YAOI IS ADDICTIVE.**

**Much thanks to my _epische_ beta, who doesn't have an account here. I shall call her P-chan... in no way related to the P-chan from _Ranma 1/2._**

* * *

Days had passed since Al's momentary 'death' of sorts, and Edward had decided that if things were going to rocket around like a snowball in hell, then they might as well enjoy the time they had left. However, finding somewhere they could be alone- and not eventually found by Winry- was a problem. The only bathroom couldn't be monopolized, and most of the other rooms were too public for anything _serious_ to be done in them. That left the bedroom, which apparently wasn't all that safe either.

Though her first instinct was to get the hell out of the room, Winry's legs were frozen in place as she gaped at her two best friends. She would recall details later, but her mind comprehended only a few things at the moment.

1) Ed and Al.

2) In bed.

3) Half a step away from fucking.

"What the hell are you two _doing_!?" Golden eyes shot over to her, and as Edward growled possessively, Winry could almost see why Al would want to get laid by someone like _that. _Except for the small problem of being related! Then the yellow-haired teen seemed to register what had happened, sitting bolt upright, removing his hands from his brother and hiding them behind his back, spluttering and turning red.

"Um, ah, er, nothing?" The brunette beneath him groaned in protest of the sudden lack of stimulation, cracking a single eye open to see what had so interrupted his pleasure. It took less than a second for his already-flushed face to become purple as Alphonse tried to make his current situation seem like anything but what it actually was, and failed miserably.

"'_Nothing_' hardly involves having a hand down your brother's pants!" Ed recoiled as if stung, shifting his eyes away from Winry's blue gaze.

When was the last time that Ed and Al had gotten caught doing something wrong? There were multiple times, but those seemed so minor compared to this entire situation. Comparing the time that the two were caught by their mom stealing cookies to getting caught by their best friend, getting intimate (hey, look, into it and intimate sound alike! Ed realized, then wondered why his mind would only focus on irrelevant things) when they were supposed to be in bed sleeping was like comparing the weight difference between a feather and a boulder. Even the time where they broke that vase and tried to hide it wasn't close. The only thing that might come close enough to the scene at hand was when they tried human that was the cause of this new mess. Maybe if they hadn't done that, the bond the brothers had built up in those past years wouldn't have gotten strong enough to have caused the new sexual bond and tension between the boys. What was worse was the fact that their best friend now knew, and the look on her face... it killed some part of Ed on the 's expression was a mix of confusion, hurt and maybe what seemed to be a pinch of... jealousy? The female seemed to snap out of her trance, shaking her head and casting a last, scathing glance at the boys before stalking out.

---

Ed crumpled on the kitchen table, arms folded over his head. Al had bolted for the door as soon as he was decent, choosing the smart way to get out of Winry's line of questioning. The blonde young woman couldn't tell whether the tension visible in the clenching of her friend's jaw, was due to anger, embarrassment, or distress. The teen had so far refused to speak, shoulders quivering in tension.

"Ed, you know it's wr-"

"Yes, I _know_ it's goddamn fucking wrong! I _know_ we shouldn't! But..." A choked sob emanated from the vaguely human pile of muck on her table and chair.

"I just... I can't. I'd... I'd leave him if he told me to, if it meant keeping him safe, hell, I'd _die_ to keep him safe and happy. Just... mm." The alchemist trailed off, but even his best attempts couldn't hide his tears from his childhood friend. Winry sighed, mind strangely blank. She knew she should have _some_ sort of reaction to something like this, but she couldn't get mad at Edward, not when he was crying. The mechanic snorted at her foolishness.

"To think I used to love you, Ed. What a way for a girl's hopes to be crushed." With that, the blonde turned on her heel and stalked away, leaving her golden-haired client to cry himself out.

---

Alphonse sat in the graveyard, ignoring the chill of the October night air. Tear-trails stained the teen's cheeks as he stared at his mother's headstone.

_'Mom... what would you think of us, Ed and I? You... you wouldn't be happy with us. We... we're together, mom. As in, together together. Going out. Dating. However you wanna say it. I... we're wrong, aren't we? I knew that when I got into this, but...'_ A watery chuckle burbled its way out of the brunette's throat. _'Stupid, aren't I? It's not as if we've done anything different, but as soon as someone else knew, even if that someone was Winry... it seems like everything just kinda got worse. I... I still love him. I know I do. And I know that I shouldn't.'_ Al leaned forward, resting his hands on the weather-worn stone, bronze eyes closing. _'But what do I do? I'm... I'm scared. What do I do?' _Tears found their way down the boy's cheeks once more, falling unheeded to the ground.


	6. Ghost

The rest of the week passed in stone-cold silence, Winry treating Ed like all of her other patients, if not more coldly. Al had been all but chased out of the house, and it was plain that he was no longer welcome. The brunette had taken up sneaking into the shed for shelter from the biting autumn winds when he was sure his brother's mechanic wasn't watching. The two blonds within the house barely spoke to each other, neither inclined to bring up the incident that had caused such a gap in their friendship, or to mention the conspicuous absence of Alphonse. How the older brother had found his sibling, the younger would never know, and did not say a word until they reached the train. Not even the yelling they had grown accustomed to from the mechanic followed the two teens' retreating backs. Silence reigned until the pair returned to the safety of their own home, Ed clicking the lock behind them with a sigh of relief.

"Well. We're still alive, and we're not in jail. Considering everything that happened, I think we made off pretty damn well." A dull grey-green stare was all that was offered in response to the blond's words. Said blond laid a careful hand on his lover's arm, concerned.

"Al? You okay?" The younger teen bit the inside of his lip, looking to the side.

"No, I'm not okay. It's like... I don't know, like Winry made me realize what we are. Well, more of... face the truth? I... I always knew that we were... not _wrong_, but not _right_ either. I-I love you brother, and part of me never wants to leave your side. But the other part of me, the part of me that knows that brothers should never be this way, wants to run for the hills, or throw myself in a bottomless pit, or, hell, die in a corner somewhere. Anything to get out of this. I just- I just... I'm confused, okay? I have no fucking clue what I should do, and I can't go to anyone for help because you're biased, Winry hates us now, and I can't tell anyone else because this is freaking _illegal._" Al spat the word like a curse, ignoring the tears welling in the corners of his eyes. His brother recoiled as if stung, hurt shining in golden eyes.

"Al, I told you before. If you've got any doubts about..." Ed trailed off, grasping for words, "us in general," the teen paused again, inhaling as if the extra oxygen could keep him calm, "I can leave, and we can forget all this shit ever happened. I won't force you into something you don't want with all your heart and soul." The brunette shook his head slowly, eyes closing.

"We... I don't need to go that far, brother. I... I just need some space, okay? I think I'll stay at Fletcher's for a while. Call me if anything important happens?" The yellow-eyed alchemist stared for a moment, processing, before nodding.

"Whatever you like, Al." The two shared a final hug before the confused younger slunk away.

* * *

Fletcher hadn't seemed surprised in the slightest when his friend showed up on his doorstep, asking to stay a few nights. The blond had simply invited Alphonse in, made a pot of tea, and sat the brunette down at the table to find out what was wrong.

The blond teen had moved to Central, minus an older brother and all of his notes, to study botanical alchemy at the slowly-growing university. From the vague explanation he had been given, Al had surmised that there had been a falling-out of sorts between the Tringhams, which was not to be mentioned under any circumstances.

"So, there's a guy I like, 'kay?" Fletcher nodded; his friend's preferences were no surprise. The two of them had even shared a few exploratory kisses before, hidden away from protective older brothers and knowing they would go absolutely nowhere.

"And I know that he likes me too; we've screwed around a bit. But there's a whole bunch of stuff in the way." Alphonse picked his words carefully, trying not to give too much away.  
"Let's just say, for the sake of the argument that he's in an arranged marriage. Thing is, his... fiancé caught us... together... a couple nights ago." The younger teen winced in sympathy, knowing the pain of being caught in a forbidden act.

"So we pretty much said that he'll go by whatever decision I make, but I don't know whether to stay with him and maybe get in trouble but stay mostly happy, or leave him so he can get on with his life." The brunette collapsed on the table, biting his lip and folding his arms over his head. Fletcher chewed on the inside of his lip, thinking.

"Well... I hate to say this, seeing as you're my friend and all, but it sounds to me like you're the other person here. Maybe you should just leave them be." Al bit his lip to keep himself from kicking the blond under the table. '_Calm down, Al... Fletcher wouldn't say stuff like that just to get you mad. He's got a point.' _Fletcher got up and contented himself with caring for the many plants scattered about the kitchen, knowing Al wouldn't say more. The older boy was getting _that look_ again, the one that meant he was lost in his thoughts. The Tringham sighed, shaking his head at the foolishness of relationships. Situations like Al's were exactly why he didn't want a boyfriend.  


* * *

A week had passed in Al's absence; without any sort of work to distract him, Edward had little to do but think of his predicament. That stupid voice in the back of his head had returned, and was arguing with him. The problem with arguing with himself, he mused, was that he either went in circles for hours on end, or ended up convincing himself of something that he'd never believe the next day. His thoughts also kept going off in random directions; he kept wondering what would happen if he went back to Risembool, why Al wasn't back yet (_he said he'd only be gone for a few days!)_, why Al would go to Fletcher (_it's because they're friends, you idiot, not because Al's cheating! He wouldn't!)_, and so on. It seemed that without something concrete to focus on, his mind was determined to not let him focus at all. His thoughts drifted back to Al's absence; shouldn't he be back by now? Surely he wouldn't stay out _that_ long. Unless... Unless he was avoiding Ed on purpose.  
_'And well he should! Winry showed him the truth, showed you both the truth! He doesn't like being different! He's always said he wanted to be __**normal**__, hasn't he?'_ the voice in his head nagged. Maybe it hadn't reappeared, and maybe he wasn't insane. Maybe that stupid little voice was his conscience waking back up.  
_'He's mine! He said he loved me as more than a brother; why should that change for anything?! Even Winry can't split us up!'_ Ed knew his arguments were feeble. Relationships fell apart all the time, especially when they were based on little more than physical attraction.  
_'He knows he's wrong, knows __**you're**__ wrong! It's all your fault. What if he says he doesn't __**want**__ to come back, hm? What then?'_ The thought was sobering, making his mind roil with uncertainty. What if Al _did_ hate him for this? He would goddamn deserve it. It was his fault, _always_ his fault. Everything he did was wrong. All he did was screw people's lives up. If he had said no, all those months ago, then none of this would have happened. Al wouldn't have tried to convince himself to love his brother as more than family, never would have had to deal with Winry's fit of rage... never would have had to run away from his brother. Ed ground his teeth together, flinging an arm over his eyes. His fault. Everything was his fault. He had to fix this.  
The phone ringing jerked the Elric out of his thoughts, and he was tempted to let it ring itself out. It was probably the Colonel anyway... actually, a mission would do him good. Get his mind off things. He strode over to the phone, fully expecting to hear his commanding officer's voice.  
"Elric house, who'm I talkin' to?" He let his language slip, too annoyed at himself to care.  
"Ed? Um, it's Fletcher. Is Al okay? He said he'd call when he got home, but that was two days ago... Ed?" A small, choked sound had escaped the alchemist's throat. Two _days?_ It didn't take two days to walk four blocks!  
"Ed? What's wrong?" The Elric's voice did a poor job of concealing his anger and worry.  
"You're sure it was two _days? _Not two hours, or minutes, or something?" Concern began to creep into the Tringham's voice.  
"Yeah, he left on Monday. You mean he's not back yet?"  
"No, he's back and I'm just fuckin' with your head, of _course_ he's not back yet!" Ed felt no remorse; if Fletcher was going to ask stupid questions then he could deal with such answers. Without waiting for a response, he slammed the phone down on the receiver. Coat and boots were retrieved on the blond's way to the door. No one else was going to help; it was up to him to find his little brother.


End file.
